Takumi sifted through the shelves of the school library, fingertips brushing along rows of spines as he searched for anything that might explain the Zero Project before it collapsed. The dim, quiet air hummed with the soft whir of ceiling lights—an atmosphere that always felt more like home to him than his own room.
"Taki! Bro, who hurt you?" Itsuki whispered loudly—much too loudly for a library—as he trailed after him like an oversized shadow. "Haven't you read enough about that creepy project last year? Man, you're gonna start dreamin' about it at this rate."
Libraries never appealed to Itsuki. He preferred noise, sunshine, and wide-open spaces—not dusty shelves and quiet rules.
Takumi slid one book back into its slot, already dismissing it. Not the one he needed. Shoving his hands into his jeans pockets, he spoke without looking back. "No one asked you to come along."
Itsuki scratched behind his ear, confused, watching Takumi drift toward another aisle. "I know, I know, but c'monnn," he groaned, dragging out the word like a child denied candy. "Let's ditch this place and grab somethin' to drink! You don't seriously wanna be stuck sneakin' around the library 'til evening, right?" He leaned closer with a lopsided grin. "Like… dude, what're you even lookin' for? Even Nene bailed and went home, and we're still in here like a pair of ghosts."
Takumi pulled a book from the shelf—only to discover it was the exact same edition he'd finished last winter. He set it aside with a sigh and reached for the next one. "Remember how people say those things leave distortions in the air when they move?"
He held the book in one hand, fingers pressing into the cover, his eyes narrowing at Itsuki from behind a loose strand of hair.
Itsuki blinked. "Uh… I mean, I haven't seen 'em," he admitted, waving his hands vaguely. "But people talk about it all the time, right? Like, these weird little air-wobbles or ripples or somethin'—kinda like when you stare at hot pavement? Except creepier. And invisible. And apparently deadly." He made exaggerated finger-wavy motions to demonstrate, his face scrunching in concentration. "Honestly, Taki, all that stuff sounds like somethin' outta a horror movie. I dunno how the hell you keep readin' about it without nightmares."
Takumi didn't respond to the exaggeration. He simply lowered the book.
"I saw a distortion today," he said quietly. "In class. When Yuna walked in."
Itsuki froze mid-hand-wave.
Takumi continued, voice low and steady, "If distortions only come from those creatures—the ones everyone says only appear at night—then why would I see one during the day?"
Takumi's words hit Itsuki like a punch to the gut. His posture stiffened instantly, shoulders tensing as he tried—poorly—to mask the fear creeping up his spine.
"Geez, dude…" Itsuki muttered, voice cracking despite his attempt to sound tough. "Creepin' me out ain't funny. Nights in Aoshima are already hell. Don't go takin' our days away too. Bein' stuck inside all the time? That's not livin', man. That's just… waitin' to die or get eaten."
Takumi, however, showed none of the same fear. Not even a flicker. If anything, he looked… curious. Focused. Almost drawn in by the mystery rather than repelled by it.
Finally spotting the book he'd been searching for, he slid it from the shelf and examined the cover like it was a long-awaited key. With it held firmly in hand, he walked past the aisles and toward the checkout desk.
"I guess the only way to learn more about them," he said, voice quiet but unwavering, "is if I go out during the night."
Itsuki froze.
"H-Huh?! Dude—WHAT?!" he sputtered, chasing after him. "Are you insane?! You go out at night, you're dead! Gone! Poof! Vaporized! I am not lettin' you get yourself dragged off by monsters like some horror movie extra!" He flailed his arms dramatically. "We can't even see 'em, man! How the hell do you expect to 'learn' anything?! Don't start pretendin' you're some kinda hero with superpowers!"
Takumi didn't budge. At the checkout desk, he calmly signed his name in the borrowing log, the librarian handing him the book with a warm smile.
"I'm not pretending," he said, polite but firm as he thanked the woman. He stepped toward the exit, Itsuki hurrying beside him like an anxious guard dog. "I'm doing this for a good reason."
The door swung open, letting in a gust of cool hallway air as Takumi walked through—book in hand, resolve unshaken.
Itsuki followed, pale and panicked.
Itsuki hurried after him, practically tripping over his own untied shoelace as Takumi stepped into the wide, echoing corridor. Students' voices bounced faintly through the hall, but Itsuki only heard his own rising panic.
"Bro—BRO—hold up!" he yelped, lunging forward and grabbing Takumi's sleeve with both hands, clinging to it like a lifeline. "You can't just say you're goin' out at night and walk away like it's grocery shopping! That's not normal people behavior!"
"Who said I'm normal...?" Takumi continued walking as if the tug on his sleeve barely existed, his eyes lowered to the book in his hand, scanning the first page with quiet focus.
"Dude, listen to me," Itsuki pleaded, practically jogging sideways to stay in Takumi's line of sight. "You got a good life! You got friends! You got… uh… hair that behaves! You can't just throw all that away!"
Takumi kept his pace steady, not even glancing up. His footsteps were slow, calm, rhythmic—like nothing Itsuki said could so much as tilt his mood.
"Okay, okay—what if…" Itsuki drew in a deep theatrical breath, puffing out his cheeks before releasing it in a burst. "What if I bribe you?"
Takumi blinked once, the faintest sign he'd heard him.
"I'll buy ya lunch every day this week," Itsuki continued, thrusting a finger up as though he'd delivered a brilliant solution.
Takumi turned a page.
"Two weeks?" Itsuki tried, voice cracking in desperation. Takumi's silence remained unwavering. "A whole month?!" Itsuki practically screamed, catching the attention of a few passing students who snickered at the spectacle.
Takumi finally lowered his gaze from the page just long enough to respond, his expression as unreadable as ever. "I'm not changing my mind. And let's be real. You don't have that kind of money to waste."
Itsuki groaned loudly, dragging both hands down his face as if trying to physically pull the stress out of his skull. "Taki, c'mon, man! Why you gotta be like this?! Look—I'll even stop callin' you Taki if that helps! I'll call you Mr. Takumi, sir! President Takumi! Your Majesty! Just—stop talkin' about goin' outside at night!"
Takumi, entirely unfazed, closed the book gently for a moment, his fingers resting against the embossed cover as he walked. "I'll be fine."
"No, you won't!" Itsuki shouted, jabbing a finger in his direction with the intensity of someone naming a criminal. "You're like… like… a moth! And those monsters are, like… giant bug zappers! That's not a fight you win, bro!"
Takumi simply reopened the book, eyes drifting back to the page without missing a beat.
Itsuki spun in a frantic circle, clutching the sides of his head. "You're insane...!"
Takumi glanced sidelong at him with a calm, almost gentle neutrality. "Are you done?"
"NO!" Itsuki instantly fired back, pointing both hands at him as he practically hopped in frustration. "I got like ten more reasons why you shouldn't go out there! Starting with—"
But Takumi had already moved ahead, turning the corner toward the staircase, his bag bouncing lightly against his hip as if he were on a simple stroll rather than contemplating nighttime suicide. Itsuki scrambled after him, nearly slipping on the polished floor as he chased his friend with a mixture of panic, disbelief, and raw determination to stop him.
In the end, Itsuki threw his hands up in defeat. He'd poured his whole soul into stopping Takumi, but the guy was immovable—like arguing with a glacier.
"You know what? OK! Fine!" he barked, voice echoing faintly down the hall. "I'm clearly not gonna change your mind. But listen here, bro—if you go out tonight, you BETTER show up to school tomorrow. If you don't, I swear I'll find your grave, resurrect your skeletal bod, and drag you to homeroom myself!"
He jabbed a finger at Takumi, ready to launch into another rant—until he walked straight into Takumi's back.
"Ow—dude, why'd you stop—"
Itsuki looked ahead.
And froze.
Aoshiki Yuna.
Standing perfectly still in the hallway with her arms crossed beneath her chest, back against the wall, posture disciplined enough to rival a military ad. Her expression was the same as always—calm, unreadable, and deadly serious. The kind of seriousness that made people sit straighter without realizing it.
"You two," she began, voice steady and firm, "shouldn't still be here. The school has been closed for over an hour. Did you forget the curfew protocols?" She lifted her chin slightly, blue eyes narrowing with pointed precision. "Only staff and student council members are allowed to remain on campus after hours. You are neither."
Her gaze locked onto them like a spotlight—sharp, focused, and entirely unamused.
Itsuki's reaction was immediate. His shoulders tensed. His eyebrows twitched. And then, with all the grace of a cornered cat, he snapped:
"Oh, wow, look who it is—Princess Pink-Ponytail Perfection herself," he grumbled. "Come to escort us plebeians off the sacred premises? Sorry to disappoint ya, Miss Popularity Supreme Overlord of the Hallway, but Taki and I don't care about your… your… popularity harem!"
Takumi blinked.
Yuna stared.
Itsuki doubled down. "Yeah, that's right! Queen Yuna of the Sparkly Student Council doesn't scare us!"
Takumi quietly whispered, "Please stop."
"Nah, man, I'm committed now," Itsuki insisted, arms flailing. "Go ahead—banish us from the kingdom, Your Royal Study-Ness!"
Yuna's left eyebrow twitched. Just slightly.
And somehow, that made the hallway feel colder.
Yuna pushed off from the wall and closed the distance between them with quiet, deliberate steps. Takumi felt her presence before she even stopped—steady, composed, unyielding. She lifted her chin slightly and met his gaze head-on, violet eyes cutting straight through him with a clarity that made Itsuki physically jump aside, suddenly silent.
"I heard your conversation," she said, her voice low but unmistakably firm. "Going out at night? You don't seem to understand the kind of gamble you're taking." Her eyes never left his. "You should be focusing on your studies, not chasing after creatures that even authorities can't handle."
She took a breath, posture straight, expression unwavering.
"And you already know the consequences. If you somehow manage to survive the night," she continued, "then the next morning, you'll be expelled from school. No debate. No appeal. You understand why… don't you, Kisaragi?"
Takumi held her stare, unmoving.
Yuna pressed on—because the readers needed the truth.
"The curfew isn't just a suggestion," she said. "It's law. Anyone caught outside after midnight—student or not—is recorded on the city database. For minors, that means immediate removal from all public institutions. Schools included. They label you as 'high-risk' and drop you from the system. No exceptions."
Itsuki's jaw dropped.
Yuna continued, tone tightening. "It's to prevent more casualties. Once someone witnesses a night creature firsthand, once they're targeted or chased, they become liabilities. They panic. They disobey orders. They draw attention. And attention is exactly what the city can't afford."
She stepped closer still, her silhouette framed by the dim corridor lights.
"The creatures follow patterns. Movement. Noise. Warmth. Survivors increase those risks simply by being afraid. That's why the school—and the city—enforce the rule strictly. It isn't about punishment. It's containment."
She let her words settle before finishing:
"So if you go out there, Takumi, you're not only risking your life… you're risking your future. Your education. Your place in this city. And the safety of everyone around you."
The hallway felt smaller. Quieter. Heavy.
Itsuki swallowed hard.
Yuna's gaze remained locked with Takumi's—unblinking, expectant.
Yuna held her ground throughout her explanation, never once looking away from Takumi. Those violet eyes of hers were unwavering—sharp, disciplined, and absolutely certain of the rules she enforced. But Takumi wasn't intimidated. If anything, the intensity only pushed him to speak.
"Is that so?" he replied calmly. "And how exactly would I get expelled if nobody knew I was outside?" His tone sharpened just slightly. "Care to explain, Mrs. Student Council?"
Their gazes clashed—refusing to break, refusing to give an inch.
Yuna didn't flinch. "It's quite simple," she said, her voice steady as steel. "I am the student council. You said it yourself, Kisaragi. I report directly to the teachers and the principal. My job is to keep disobedient students from violating the law. I inform them, and they take action."
Itsuki quietly tried to shrink into the wall.
Takumi let a short silence settle between them before he responded, his voice low but confident.
"As much as I recall," he began, "everyone is inside their homes during late hours. Catching me outside would be almost impossible. Even the officials and the police don't roam around after midnight." He took a slow step closer, his eyes narrowing slightly. "So tell me, Yuna—how would you prove anything to the school without evidence?"
His words cut through the air like a blade.
"This hallway has no cameras," he continued. "Everyone else has already gone home. There's no one here to hear what I said. No witnesses. Just you and me." His gaze locked even deeper into hers. "You think your word alone would be enough to make the school believe I broke curfew?"
Yuna's lips parted slightly, but no sound came—Takumi wasn't finished.
"Or…" His voice dropped to a near whisper. "Perhaps you'd have evidence to back up your claim." He paused. Eyes narrowing. Tone razor-sharp.
"Is it because you're breaking that rule yourself?"
The hallway immediately fell still.
The fluorescent lights hummed overhead, the only source of sound. Itsuki's breathing paused mid-gasp. The air tightened, heavy with something unspoken and dangerous.
Yuna didn't move. Not a blink, not a twitch.
Her expression wavered—just for a fraction of a second. Barely enough for anyone but Takumi to notice. Her hand curled subtly at her side.
A silence so deep it felt physical stretched between them, pressing against the walls like the weight of a storm brewing. Itsuki swallowed hard, eyes darting between them, terrified to even breathe too loudly.
The hallway belonged to the tension now.
Cold. Still. Waiting.
Takumi had struck a nerve.
To be continued...